Ethan had expected the Grand Duke's office to feel intimidating.
He hadn't expected it to feel… quiet, quiet in a way that made him suddenly aware of his own breathing. The room was spacious without being showy, the furniture chosen with the tact that suggested the person who used it didn't need reminders of his own importance. Light came in through tall windows instead of chandeliers. Nothing glittered. Nothing tried to impress.
That somehow made Ethan's mood even worse.
Trevor Fitzgeralt rose from behind the desk as Ethan was shown in, and Ethan stood a little straighter without meaning to. The man looked exactly like what Ethan imagined a Grand Duke should look like: composed, unreadable, and calm in the way that came from being very used to being listened to.
"Mr. Miller," Fitzgeralt said, voice level. "Thank you for coming."
Ethan gave a short nod. "Didn't feel like much of a choice."
